i will gather my flowers withered

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By Loneliness is condescending •

Lay our hands down We will remember you today Whispering to the earth We celebrate in silence A kiss to cold cheeks We gather round Blood runs thick between us We made a pack so long ago Your weeping mother will never know The iris has been laid Your last chance has arrived Despair as the ghost we are

Current vote: 8.0 / 5

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August 14, 2006 03:58lost the lonely dead

i like the sense of reverance/remembrance its a cool one and well done

August 22, 2006 19:39a rose by any otha name

Different in a good way, it's not like alot of the other poems on here it's refreshing

August 29, 2006 19:29Faith

I makes me want to know the story behind it! Well done.

June 6, 2007 21:24.:side:walk:.

this is a nice poem, with a little touch of mystery!